The New Monastic and the Old Monk: When the Center Does Not Hold
The New Monastic and the Old Monk: When the Center Does Not Hold
At the moment I am somewhere in Oklahoma with our oldest son, trying to provide moral support while he struggles with some very difficult issues. My wife joins us as she can, given her work; and our friends are praying for us.
It’s unbearably hot here, sometimes almost unbearably hard here, and overall it’s very depressing. I try to keep a chipper public face, especially where I am somewhat in “public” (e.g. on Facebook) … but I’m not chipper. Nor is my faith at the moment.
That's the setting, the emotional and spiritual context, for what follows. It applies to the situation of my loved ones here, but as I pondered it all, things quickly went "global" on me earlier today. With that condition in mind, I wasn’t surprised at what was whispering through my head as I woke up today.
It was in that dreamy half-state – half-asleep, half-awake, eyes open but seeing more of the “inside” of my soul than the “outside” of my world – that I began to realize I was remembering the words of the poem “The Second Coming” by William Butler Yeats. Word by word, it all shimmered up out of the depths and began to float around in my head, in front of my spiritual eyes:
Follow the link and read the entire article.....
At the moment I am somewhere in Oklahoma with our oldest son, trying to provide moral support while he struggles with some very difficult issues. My wife joins us as she can, given her work; and our friends are praying for us.
It’s unbearably hot here, sometimes almost unbearably hard here, and overall it’s very depressing. I try to keep a chipper public face, especially where I am somewhat in “public” (e.g. on Facebook) … but I’m not chipper. Nor is my faith at the moment.
That's the setting, the emotional and spiritual context, for what follows. It applies to the situation of my loved ones here, but as I pondered it all, things quickly went "global" on me earlier today. With that condition in mind, I wasn’t surprised at what was whispering through my head as I woke up today.
It was in that dreamy half-state – half-asleep, half-awake, eyes open but seeing more of the “inside” of my soul than the “outside” of my world – that I began to realize I was remembering the words of the poem “The Second Coming” by William Butler Yeats. Word by word, it all shimmered up out of the depths and began to float around in my head, in front of my spiritual eyes:
Follow the link and read the entire article.....
Comments